


take me in small doses; i'll take you all at once

by timequakes



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-18
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-18 22:39:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/566058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timequakes/pseuds/timequakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>kelley pines, hope tries not to notice, and thanksgiving 'break' is much more eventful than either of them expected it to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [you and tequila](https://archiveofourown.org/works/565636) by [timequakes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/timequakes/pseuds/timequakes). 



> A huge thank you to Jasmine for catching that it was Hope who was afraid of flying. A huge thank you to Alex for existing. A huge thank you to Sarah for being my feels-vomiting partner in crime as far as O'Solo is concerned. I don't claim any of what I'm writing here to be remotely true, I certainly don't think there's any real relationship between these two, and I'm really only using their likenesses to play with characters based off of them that I find fun to mess with. This chapter is rated T. I don't expect (with these two) that it'll stay that way very long.
> 
> I've been dealing with a lot of shit lately (tests, shows, college applications) so I'm sorry this is so late. I'm a perfectionist, so that's my second excuse. Anyway- enjoy this. The title comes from a poem by an anonymous-ish writer that I discovered online. Comments are always appreciated!

Heading home for Thanksgiving seems like the only way for Hope to escape the imbalance that’s become so pervasive in her day to day life. She’s a storm-tossed ship unable to right itself, a bird who’s missed the migration and knows nothing else but to keep flying until the wind feels familiar again. 

Kelley is the eye of the storm and the friendly wind.

Their friendship was sudden and surprised Hope at least as much as it surprised everyone else. It’s not like there’d be any reason for them not to get along, exactly, but they’re mismatched in so many ways that it all just seems so unlikely and temporary. 

Hope is used to that. The best things in life are temporary, fleeting, and she’s become adept at navigating the constant changes her lifestyle brings by convincing herself that there are very few temporary things that will leave a hole when they disappear. Now, though, the threat of a Kelley-shaped hole is all-consuming and terrifying and is the direct consequence of Hope being inexcusably stupid and getting herself attached when she knew she couldn’t afford to be. The alcohol wasn’t hearing her.

They had been friends first, obviously, or they wouldn’t have been sharing a room in the first place- now Hope wishes she hadn’t agreed to room, but at the time she thought nothing of it- and things had evolved out of her own inability to turn down a challenge. Probably, things would have been salvageable if she had taken into account the fact that Kelley was nothing like her. As it was, it had been up to Kelley to remind her;

“I’m not... I’m not a one-night-stand kind of person,”

which had very suddenly become, 

“There’s this, this really great kind of bar nearby, it’s called the W, their sliders are great-”

and Hope had said yes.

And then faked sick.

(She was sick, but mostly of herself.)

Thanksgiving is her only real hope to turn herself around, and she ruins that without the help of any alcohol at all. All it takes is Kelley’s downcast eyes and the threat of a smile at the corners of her mouth. 

“Any Thanksgiving plans?”

______________________________________

Kelley’s not trying to impose and she’s certainly not looking for sympathy. She probably wouldn’t even have mentioned this whole thing if Hope hadn’t asked, but she did, and lying about it would be stupid.

“Well, my...I mean, my family went on a cruise. I was supposed to go with them, but then the game...” she shrugs. “It wasn’t a big deal that they’re gonna miss it or anything. It’s a friendly. But I’m kinda stuck cooking a turkey dinner for one now.”

She knows how it sounds. It sounds about how she expects it to be- lonely, pitiful, and kinda stupid. But she’ll get over it- there are plenty of people who don’t even celebrate Thanksgiving, anyway, and the surfing will be easy with everyone so busy cooking and eating. On some level, though, Kelley’s not sure why she’s sharing this with Hope at all. The last thing she wants is for anyone to feel bad for her, and especially not Hope, for whatever reason.

Hope makes a weird face and Kelley feels like she’s being studied. After what feels like a few hours of awkward silence, Hope heaves a sigh and asks, almost (almost) hesitantly, “Do you want to stay with me?”

_______________________________________

"I don't want...I mean, things might be awkward, right? After-"

"Its not a big deal," Hope snaps, keeping her smile but knowing it probably looks like a defensive grimace, "it happens a lot. I mean, not to me, but in general. On the team."

That's a lie but Kelley's still a little too green to know it. Her eyebrows shoot up and she asks, "really?" before Hope can change the subject. "Yeah. Totally not a big deal."

The more she says it the less she believes it. It is a big deal, for two important reasons. One, she lied about being sick and Kelley had completely believed her, and two, there had been a significant part of her that wanted to show up. Meaning, really, that if she’d been asked again she would have gone-- and that’s not very ‘her’ at all.

The truth is that for the most part she’s full of shit. She knows it, and maybe Carli does, considering how long they’ve known each other, but she’s good at hiding it. When USA Today had asked her about Adrian (who had left a bigger hole than she’d ever admit), she had lied through a smile and told them she was always looking, but she wasn’t. She’s not. And there’s a really kind of huge part of her that wants to take back the offer.  
She won’t, though. That’d be chickening out. She’s already done that with Kelley once, and that’s one time too many. She’s not afraid of this. She’s not afraid of having Kelley under her roof. She’s not afraid she’s going to lose control and end up caring because she knows herself better and she knows she can control herself.

Kelley looks up at her one more time, eyes bright and warm. “Are you sure?”

Is she?

She looks away, slinging her bag over her shoulder and taking a swig of water, taking her time even though she knows the answer immediately.

“Of course. What are friends for, right?”  
_________________________________________

Friends.

Well, obviously.

There had been a part of her that had thought- just for a moment- that Hope canceling on her had been more than coincidence. 

And for more than that moment she had dwelled on the idea of being rejected, not outright but subtly, and had decided that would be worse by far than being told ‘no’ to begin with. Then, though, she had remembered the tug of Hope’s hands in her hair, the tenderness-although brief- in her kiss, and had decided it was unfair to do anything but give her the benefit of the doubt.

This was pretty obvious. Obvious enough that her heart sinks and her knees very suddenly feel like they’re made out of lead, but she does her best not to react. After all, how many people in the world can call Hope Solo a friend? Needless to say a friend that’s invited them over for Thanksgiving. All things considered, she feels as if she must be fairly high on that list, and that alone is what keeps her from making her disappointment verbal.  
_________________________________________

Hope realizes too late that she’s not going to be able to prepare the house at all for Kelley’s arrival. That shouldn’t matter too much, because she’s naturally fairly clean, and someone’s coming in to feed and walk the dogs every day, so she certainly doesn’t expect a disaster, but out of habit she wishes she had a day or two alone to set things up the way she’d like them.

She’ll manage, of course. She always does. 

_________________________________________

Hope seems to get more and more nervous as the flight approaches, until they’re standing side by on the line to board and Kelley notices Hope’s hands literally shaking.

“You don’t get nervous going out to play in front of thousands of people,” Kelley murmurs, trying to control the amount of outright affection in her voice because that’s _wrong_ , they’re just friends- “but you get scared to sit in a plane for a few hours?”

Hope’s paler by the moment and Kelley almost feels bad for asking, except that the question seems to distract Hope, who stops wringing her hands and focuses on trying to look nonchalant, which is both cute and useless. “Those are stupid things to compare,” is her strained but well-meaning reply. “One is what I do to earn a living and the other is sitting in an armchair that’s hurtling several miles above the earth going at the freaking speed of light.”

It’s all Kelley can do to control herself from saying something stupid and comforting. What she does do is chuckle a little and say, “It’s not moving that fast,” before their zone is called and they board in silence, jostling against each other and other people until they reach their seats. When Kelley finally manages to get herself situated, book under one arm, headphones in her other hand, she sees that Hope is bent over something, scribbling madly. 

For a second she doesn’t realize Kelley is watching her, but when she does she looks up as if she’s been caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar. This is a whole new side of Hope- almost like she’s pulling a prank, the way her usual demeanor has devolved into nervousness, and she’s never seemed so...small. Taller than Kelley, obviously, but...just human-sized. As opposed to larger-than-life, as she usually is.

Kelley glances down and sees that Hope’s working feverishly on a sudoku puzzle. With a pen. That’s the kind of bravado she’s used to-- Hope would be the kind of person to do a logic puzzle with a pen. No room for mistakes. 

“It helps to not think about the takeoff,” she says, and Kelley swears never seen her so shy, heard her voice so quiet. Well, she has, but it was only once, a hiss into her ear, and she refuses to think about that, because that night probably shouldn’t have happened in the first place

Even as the plane picks up speed and shakes slightly, even as they rise into the air, Hope is bent over that sudoku book, scribbling, hair falling into her face. Usually Kelley watches out the window, but this time she’s too busy watching Hope. There’s something about Hope being nervous for once, being anything other than aloof and calculating, that fascinates her. She wants that not to be true, but it is, and Hope’s too busy tamping down her anxiety to notice, so Kelley watches.

She practically memorizes everything by the time they’ve reached cruising altitude: the curve of Hope’s fingers around the pen (she holds it strangely- the way a leftie would, but with her right hand), the look of panicked focus on her face, the strand of hair on the left side that keeps falling into her eyes no matter how many times she tucks it behind her ear. When the pilot announces that they’re at their cruising height, Kelley immediately looks down at her open book, fifty pages behind where she really is, so that Hope won’t see her watching.

They don’t speak for most of the flight. Hope dozes on and off and Kelley reads, desperately trying to clear her mind, and failing miserably- especially when, just before landing, Hope shifts in her sleep and leans against her shoulder.  
_________________________________________

She’s trying to pay attention. She really is.

The thing is, as interested as she is in this tour de Hope, she’s more interested in Hope. And it’s not that the view from her Richland house isn’t spectacular, because it is, but when Hope leans over the railing a little, bracing herself with her hands, all Kelley can really focus on is the fact that at one point in time those hands were under her shirt. So she walks around perpetually fighting the flush that’s creeping up the back of her neck and nods every couple of seconds and fakes her way through about a half hour of that until she realizes that if Hope leaves her alone for two seconds she’s still going to be completely lost.

They stop again right in the emptiest room, which is carpeted and neutral and overlooks the bay but has nothing other than a ping pong table in it. Hope stands there with her hands on her hips for a moment with a look on her face that makes Kelley panic. Is she supposed to say something? What should she say? Nice ping pong table, hope you know my hand-eye coordination is similar to that of a newborn turtle? Nice ping pong table, do you think it could hold our combined weight if we-

“I can set up the air mattress in here.”

Kelley jumps so hard at the sound of Hope’s voice that she hits her elbow on the wall behind her and earns a raised eyebrow as a reward for her lapse in focus. 

“Uh, sure.”  
“Or you can have the pull-out couch.”

What’s the difference? She doesn’t know if there’s a difference. She has a vague feeling that there’s a wrong and right answer, but she’s blind to whatever’s under the surface of the question. “Either works,” she says carefully, and then hides her panic when Hope shakes her head.

“Thing is, the pull-out couch is right next to the kitchen, and I usually don’t sleep through a night-”

“That’s okay- I’m- that’s fine, I don’t mind.”

God, she sounds nervous even to herself.  
_________________________________________

Hope briefly entertains the theory that grabbing Kelley, shoving her against the wall, and kissing her until she can’t breathe might fix everything. The tension is killing her, and she doesn’t have the patience to deal with it kindly.

In the end she’s more afraid of the consequences than the tension between them. She’s never been afraid to hurt someone’s feelings before, but this is different. Kelley’s different.

It’s the first time in a long time she inconveniences herself to make someone else feel at ease, and it feels too good.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope learns that she can act. Kelley learns nothing at all.

When Kelley wakes up, she's disheveled, confused, and blinking in sunlight that she could have sworn was coming from the wrong side of the room.

She doesn't have time to realize she's not in her own house before she hears the clatter of a dropped skillet and then Hope's voice, gravelly from sleep, coming from somewhere behind her: "Crap!"

Kelley sits up, Hope looks at her, there's a moment of silence and then they both burst into laughter.

.,.

Kelley’s probably laughing at her dropping the skillet on her foot, but she’s laughing at Kelley, with her hair sticking out in all directions and her smile lopsided and confused. She looks like a cartoon character, and Hope’s uninterrupted 9 hours of alone time has starved her for human contact enough that Kelley, makeupless and barely awake, strikes her as very temptingly kissable.

Truth be told, she’s glad Kelley took the pull-out couch. It makes the house seem much more lived-in to walk into the living room and see a blanket and some pillows and a suitcase and duffel tucked neatly beside the coffee table. The noise wakes Leo, who comes barrelling into the kitchen with a skitter of blunt nails on tile. He’s off-balance with excitement and almost knocks Hope over when he slides into her, but he makes a beeline for Kelley.

For a second Hope starts to call him back, knowing that all 65 pounds of him running at top speed can be a lot for anyone to handle, but Kelley just drops to her knees and opens up her arms like she’s welcoming an old friend instead of a slobbery ball of fur. When Leo finishes kissing Kelley all over her face, Hope looks back to her skillet with a weird mix of affection, terror, and jealousy.

She’s jealous of how happy Kelley is at that moment, terrified of how much Kelley trusts her, and feeling the affection she normally feels for her goofball of a dog twofold.

.,.

Kelley joins Hope at the stove, peering over her shoulder at the ingredients gathered on the counter. And, in typical fashion, she doesn’t realize that she’s pushing personal space boundaries until she reaches around Hope, effectively and casually putting her arm around her waist as if it’s a totally normal thing to do- all just to grab an egg out of the carton.

Hope gives her a look that Kelley swears makes her want to die on the spot. Stupid doesn’t even begin to cover what she’s feeling, but she plays it off because they’re friends and she didn’t mean to be awkward. “I’m not used to such a big kitchen,” she manages, cradling the cool egg between her hands and taking a step to the side. Leo worms between them, whining for food or attention. Hope lets out a strangled half-laugh and takes the egg back out of her hands.

“Back it up, O’Hara, you’re getting breakfast Solo-style.”

.,.

When she had been on Dancing with the Stars, Maksim had told her she couldn’t act worth a damn. If the past few hours were any indication, he had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. Or maybe she didn’t perform well under the pressure of a judges’ panel, but under the scrutiny of Kelley’s earnest gaze she manages just fine.

Sure, she’d brushed it off when Kelley had cornered her during breakfast. And she knew that it had been an accident, she knew that Kelley hadn’t made things awkward on purpose. That had made it easier for her to keep from doing what her two initial instincts told her to do: either lean into Kelley’s arm or snap at her to respect personal boundaries. It had taken an immense amount of self control just to laugh the whole thing off, but she’d managed, and things- for a little while, at least- had gotten easier.

She’d been able to return Kelley’s enthusiasm over breakfast, laugh at her jokes, answer her questions about Kirkland and Richland and the area in general without feeling strange in the least. What was strange, actually, was how light she felt by the time the dishes were in the dishwasher. Everything was so easy- after a night of lime and tequila and too much skin she had expected exactly the opposite would be true. Maybe these next few days would be alright after all. Maybe she wouldn’t have to act.

Leo’s waiting by the door when she notices him, silent, tail swishing across the floor. It wouldn’t be any more obvious if he were holding his leash in his mouth. Kelley leans over (into Hope’s space again because she apparently was never taught the concept of personal space) and says, “I think he needs a W A L K,” spelling it out like she’s saying a bad word in front of a kindergartener. Hope clears her throat and grabs the leash off the mudroom counter, bending down to clip it to his collar. “Come on, doofus needs a trip to the park to expend some energy.”

Kelley frowns a little as they head out the door and Hope has to try ridiculously hard to keep a straight face. 

“He seems pretty calm to me.”  
“I wasn’t talking about the dog.”

.,.

The park is practically empty. It’s a little cool, a little gusty, but all the same Kelley is surprised there aren’t more people there. When she mentions it to Hope she’s surprised to hear that weekdays are usually this slow. 

“I purposely come on Wednesday mornings,” Hope says, unclipping Leo’s leash after looking around to be sure there’s nobody lurking in wait to enforce the ‘all dogs on leashes’ rule, “because I like the quiet and Leo’s more fun when there aren’t any other dogs around.”

Kelley watches as Leo takes off, loping across the swath of waterfront lawn. Hope stands and stretches, holding the leash above her head, and Kelley makes herself as nonchalant as possible. The only people there other than them are two bundled fisherman at the end of the half-circle dock, a red cooler between them, and a woman- probably in her mid twenties- hunkered down on one of the swingsets, sketching away.

“I’ll watch him for a sec. If you want there should be a ball in the trunk,” Hope says, finally, and the break in the silence makes Kelley jump a little. This is the second time in as many days that Hope’s voice has made her do that and she’s really hoping she gets less jumpy with time because it’s really kind of awkward and embarrassing.

There’s no ball in Hope’s trunk, just a towel and an empty water bottle. When Kelley turns back to tell her that, Hope’s not there, and after a second of panic she spots her again, her jean cuffs rolled up to her knees, ankle-deep in the lake. Kelley scrambles to remember the name and when she does she almost smacks herself in the forehead- Lake Washington. Of course. 

Regardless, even though it’s in the low fifties (if that), Hope is ankle deep in the water and Leo is splashing around in it like it’s eighty and sunny. Kelley now understands why there’s a towel in Hope’s trunk. For a second she just watches, unable to stop herself from noticing the little things, like the freeness of Hope’s laugh when she’s not laughing it for someone else’s benefit, and the way the wind pushes her hair off the back of her neck and her sweater is pushed up in the back so there’s just the barest hint of skin.

Then she makes herself move and think and act like a normal human being again, because what are friends for?

.,.

Hope doesn’t hear Kelley coming until the defender lets out a whoop and splashes into the water right next to her, jeans rolled up just like hers are. That’s where the similarity ends. 

Leo is beyond excited that his new best friend has joined him in the water, and when Kelley starts to chase him around in the shallows he barks and barks and barks until Hope is sure someone is going to appear and tell her to leash him or to leash Kelley, who is making just as much noise. Despite that she can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness, at Kelley, who doesn’t seem to care that the water is splashing up past where she’s rolled her jeans and can’t be more than forty degrees. 

“You’re gonna fall in,” she warns, but she can’t keep the smile out of her voice, and Kelley doesn’t heed her warning in the least. Instead she straightens up and sticks out her tongue. “I guess it’s a good thing you have a towel in your trunk, then, isn’t it?” And Hope opens her mouth to reply but Kelley’s already taken a step back, tripped over Leo, and fallen right on her ass.

She just sits there with Leo prancing around her, the water now up to her stomach, looking confused and still somehow delighted with her circumstances, until Hope gives up and wades over, sticking out a hand to help her up, laughing quietly to herself. She likes being right. She especially likes it when she’s right about Kelley. It’s nice to be able to predict her, it makes it easier to react to things-

and just as that thought is crossing her mind, just as Hope clasps Kelley’s hand in hers and pulls her up, she realizes that she’s made a horrible mistake. A wonderful mistake. Well-- a mistake.

Kelley’s lighter than she anticipated, even with the soggy weight of her clothes, and Hope has pulled her too close so that they’re practically pressed up against one another, hip to hip, breast to breast, face to face. Hope looks down. Kelley looks up, the corner of her mouth curling up like she’s just been told a tremendous secret. Hope is very aware of Kelley breathing her air, of Kelley’s small, wet hand in her own, of every single solitary freckle on Kelley’s face.

Kelley tilts her head almost imperceptibly and her eyes dip to Hope’s lips and she’s just leaning up when Hope drops her hand and says, shakily, “The towel was for the dog.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd apologize for the unresolved sexual tension, but I'm really not sorry. Comments are always well loved :) The park they went to is based off of Waverly Beach Park, which is a real place in Kirkland that borders Lake Washington, though I wrote based off of pictures I googled so I've no idea if it has any resemblance to how I wrote it, but there you go. As always, this is a totally fictional thing and these are just my perceptions of real people who more than likely are totally different from the way I percieve them. And I know that and mean no harm by borrowing their names and likenesses for my pleasure.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope takes Kelley out for a night out on the town. Things go about as well as Hope expects them to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit short but I think it's kind of funny, or at least I *hope* it's funny, so hopefully nobody will mind. Uh, again with the unresolved sexual tension...I'm still not sorry. Still rated T-ish for language and Kelley's overactive imagination.

“This might be the worst thing I’ve ever agreed to do,” Hope mutters under her breath.  
  
She’s expecting to have to wait a while but Kelley slips into clubbing clothes like they’re her second skin and is made up, dressed up, and pumped up within ten minutes. Hope almost repeats her earlier sentiment out loud with a few obscenities but instead she clears her throat and jangles the keys in her hand. “We good?”  
  
 _She’s_ not, but Kelley doesn’t need to know that. She really _really_ doesn’t need to know that Hope’s noticing the way her little smoke-black dress fits her like a glove. She also really doesn’t need to know that Hope already wants her hands all over that and _they’re still in the house._  
  
Fuck. This is gonna be a long night.  
  
Kelley follows her out and into the car, and Hope takes a breath before turning the key. Of course Kelley notices this, and, as they’re backing out of the driveway, decides she needs to address it, which kind of makes Hope want to hit herself in the head on the steering wheel a few times for being stupid enough to take a second in the first place: “Are you nervous? I won’t bite your friends. I promise.”  
  
“I’m not nervous.”  
“A drink will loosen you up.”  
“...I’m not drinking, either.”  
“Oh. Well that’s no fun.”  
“Neither are car accidents.”  
  
.,.  
  
Kelley stops wondering why Hope’s not drinking pretty much the second she has a beer in her own hand. Hope’s friends are way less tense than she is- friendly and loud and goofy and Kelley feels like she fits right in, even though she’s a few years younger than most of them. One of the people Hope introduces her to she knows she’s seen before. He’s a killer- tall, dark, handsome and nice ( _and_ his alcohol taste is very refined, he’s been nursing gin and tonics all night), and it takes her a minute but she finally remembers his name: Adrian.  
  
And then she remembers why she knows him and gets really uncomfortable really quickly because if she’s being honest she’s kind of been dancing up on him a lot in the past few minutes and Hope’s just leaning against the bar with a Coke in her hand and looking like she usually does- kind of aloof and nonchalant.  
  
The worst part is that Kelley would totally rather be dancing up on Hope. And maybe if Hope had conceded to a drink- just one- that would have been more likely, but as it is Kelley knows the best she’s going to do tonight is steal glances at Hope standing there in her skinnier-than-skinny jeans and her stupid tight shirt and pray Hope doesn’t catch her looking.  
  
.,.  
  
Hope, as always, catches pretty much everything.  
  
What she’s most surprised about is not that Kelley’s been drawn to Adrian (who _wouldn’t_ be?) or that Adrian seems to be perfectly okay with it (and why would be mind?) but that she doesn’t particularly care until his hands are on her.  
  
If she was gonna get jealous she should have done it a while back when Kelley had to lean up to whisper something into Adrian’s ear and he had to lean down because he was so much taller, but Hope hadn’t felt anything except vaguely curious as to whether they were talking about _her_. It’s not until the drinks are gone and hers is mostly melted ice that she notices anything that gives her any kind of a kick.  
  
What it is, though, is big enough that she just about drops the glass in her hand. There’s a whole crowd dancing together so she only barely catches a glimpse of it, but someone bumps into Kelley from behind and she lurches forward and Adrian catches her with his hands on her hips and Hope is just _so fucking done_ with this night that she wants to pull the fire alarm or start a bar fight or get so drunk she won’t remember any of this anyway.  
  
But she can’t do any of that.  
  
Instead she pops one of the last pieces of ice into her mouth and crushes it between her teeth.  
  
.,.  
  
Kelley’s not sure what to do with herself anymore. On the one hand- it’s just hands, and he’s not doing anything obnoxious; he caught her when she was off-balance and left his hands high enough on her hips that he’s really being too respectful for this atmosphere. She vaguely wonders if that has something to do with Hope, then abruptly decides that’s a stupid theory.  
  
Adrian doesn’t move his hands at all either way and Kelley really wishes Hope would look at them (it’s a stupid thing but she wants Hope to feel _something_ and if that something’s got to be jealousy then so be it) so she doesn’t make him. She just sings along.  
  
In her head, though, a whole different scenario is playing out. One where Hope’s hands are on the small of her back, maybe lower if the lighting permits, and the music is slower than this and their faces are close. That’s what she wants, but she’ll settle for Hope giving a shit about who she’s dancing with.  
  
.,.  
  
Hope is looking at anyone but Kelley. In fact, what she’s really trying to do is think about anything other than the fact that she knows exactly what both of them are like in bed (he’s good, she’s better) because if she thinks about that she’s really going to end up leaving by herself.  
  
She’s good at people-watching, though, and she likes it, too, so it’s not half as hard to distract herself as she expects it to be. She orders another Coke and tries to catch snippets of conversations to amuse herself. What she hears is enough to cut the night short beyond any shadow of a doubt: “There’s Olympians here? What sport?”  
  
And that’s it.  
  
She pushes into the crowd, grabs Kelley by the elbow, and pulls her away from Adrian without a second thought. Kelley gives her a strange look, partly confused and partly- smug?- but Hope doesn’t have time to worry about it. “We gotta go,” she hisses, “We gotta go _now_ , Kel. People know we’re here.”  
  
Kelley says, “So?” but she grabs her jacket anyway.   
  
Hope doesn’t even make eye contact with Adrian before she tugs Kelley with her out the back exit of the bar. Kelley’s unstable enough that she’s swaying even though she has Hope by the wrist, and when they stumble down the stairs together- Kelley from the alcohol and Hope from trying to keep her balance in heels with Kelley leaning on her- she ends up pushing them into a wall.  
  
Hope breathes.  
  
Kelley’s pressed into her with her ridiculous little hands fisted into Hope’s jacket, breathing against Hope’s neck, and Hope knows she should shove her away but can’t bring herself to. Kelley looks up, eyes wide, lips parted, and Hope wonders how many times they’re going to end up like this before she loses her mind completely.  
  
“Will you kiss me?”  
  
.,.  
  
It’s like Kelley can literally see the frustration boil over in Hope’s face. She’s well aware that she’s been pushing it, but even now she only feels the fear secondhand. She knows Hope could kick her out and leave her to fend for herself in an unfarmiliar state but somehow she isn’t that scared it’ll happen. Maybe because it hasn’t happened yet. Maybe because she’s a little drunk. Either way, Hope’s frustration explodes and Kelley definitely feels it when Hope’s jacket is yanked out of her grip.   
  
“ _No_ ,” Hope hisses, “You’re drunk, Kelley. Get in the car.”  
  
Kelley can’t help but pout a little because she doesn’t feel like that’s really a valid excuse, but she backs out of Hope’s space and starts to head for the car, parked nearby. She can’t help but dig again now that she’s gotten a reaction, so once she knows Hope’s following, she stops and crosses her arms.  
  
“You know, I’d kiss you sober.”  
“Kelley, _get in the goddamn car_.”  
  
.,.  
  
"Is it cause he was there? Aaron?"  
  
Hope sighs heavily, turning onto her street. Kelley had been quiet up until now and Hope had been naive enough to think she was dropping the subject.   
  
"Adrian."   
"Is it cause he was there?"  
  
Hope wants to ask, _is **what** because he was there_ , but she knows very well what Kelley means and doesn't want to encourage her pushy questions. The truth is that she doesn't know why. There was no reason to hold back, no reason not to let Kelley kiss her, in the dark of the alley. If Kelley wanted to, that made two of them. But Hope's far too proud to admit that.  
  
Kelley tries again.   
  
"Do you miss him?"  
"No."  
  
She had, earlier. When they first broke up she had missed him like hell. He had been sweet to her, had dug himself unde her skin without her realizing it, and needing him had scared her to death, but she loved him before she realized she had fallen for him- long before- and all that made it even harder to let him go.   
  
"It's okay to miss him."  
  
Hope pulls into her driveway and parks the car haphazardly, scaring Sully out of his tree and twisting to face Kelley, driving her point home with force she usually reserves for the field:  
  
"I don't miss him. I don't care that you danced with him."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
Hope gets out of the car.   
  
.,.  
  
Kelley follows her in, aware that Hope thinks she's drunker than she actually is and determined to milk it. She needs some answers. The 'friends' comment she buried earlier out of politeness has reappeared now that she has a few drinks in her and she wants to know what Hope's thinking.  
  
"I meant it, you know," she says, a few minutes later when she hears Hope reeneter the kitchen. She doesn't move from the pull out bed, but she can imagine Hope's facial expression.   
  
"What?"

"I'd kiss you sober. If you'd let me."  
  
A heavy sigh.   
  
"That's nice, Kelley. Go to sleep." **  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The best hangover cure is a hike in the mountains. And a torrential downpour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anyone freaks out at me about not updating 5ever, have some facts. Fact one: I am recovering from food poisoning. Fact two: this chapter is 3k+ and you will all be pleased with the outcome I'm p sure.
> 
> So- sorry it's late, but I promise it's worth it. Thanks for sticking around. Comments are, as always, appreciated- tell me what you like! It's especially important for me with this fic because I'm still trying to get their characterizations down. Every little bit helps.

Hope awakes to the filter of sunlight through her blinds and sucks in a deep breath, her chest tight like she hasn’t breathed for hours. At her feet, Leo stretches and yawns, and when she checks her clock he slips off of the bed and trots out into the hallway. To Kelley, she’s sure.  
  
God. _Kelley_.  
  
She can practically feel Kelley’s breath against her face again, that’s how clear the memory is. Still- she had been drinking. And eventually she had dropped it and went to sleep and if she’s embarrassed enough maybe she’ll do the right thing and pretend it didn’t happen.  
  
It’s not even the almost-kiss that’s got Hope so unsettled, either. It’s Kelley’s insistence that her interest would still be there if she were sober- Hope has begun to accept that her attraction to Kelley is not fueled by alcohol, and she had been counting on that not being the case in the opposite direction, but between the lakefront and last night it’s getting to be impossible to ignore.  
  
But impossible has never stopped her. She swings her legs over the edge of the bed and gets to her feet, rolling her shoulders like she’s preparing to enter an arena instead of her own kitchen.  
  
.,.  
  
Kelley has been lying awake for ten minutes when Leo trots into the living room and leaps onto the pull-out bed. She takes this to mean that Hope is awake, but she’s too crippled by embarrassment to move very much. Her mouth is dry, but whether its nervousness or a hangover, she’s not sure.  
  
She hadn’t been drunk enough to say things she didn’t mean, and that, more than anything else, more than whatever almost happened with Adrian or the not-quite-kiss, is why she needs to apologize. So far she had done a good job dealing with Hope’s tacit decision to ignore whatever is growing between them, and she feels bad for ruining that streak again.  
  
She’s still in contemplation (at least upright) by the time Hope shuffles in, dressed in leggings and something flowy and neutral, hair falling in little untamed waves over her shoulders. _You look nice_ , is what Kelley wants to say, but instead she scratches between Leo’s ears and wishes it was that easy to make humans happy, too.  
  
“Morning.”  
  
It’s Hope that breaks the silence, but her back is to Kelley and she’s distracted, rummaging through a drawer.

  
“Morning,” Kelley replies thickly, trying and failing to wet her tongue. She hears the unmistakable sound of the coffee maker and swears she perks up at least as much as Leo does. She’s not as quick off the bed, though, and she’s pretty sure she shouldn’t lick Hope’s toes, either.  
  
She approaches Hope a little nervously, trying to gauge the distance she should keep between them (because that is clearly not one of her strong suits), but it goes mostly unnoticed as far as she can tell. Hope just wraps her hands around her mug and brings it to her lips, nodding at the extra, which Kelley immediately takes a gulp of, because a burnt mouth is better than a dry one any day.  
  
They stand like that, side by side with Leo sitting expectantly at Hope’s heels.   
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
But it’s not her that says it.  
  
.,.  
  
Kelley’s not good at hiding her surprise, and Hope immediately realizes she needs to clarify.  
  
“I’m sorry I yelled at you last night. Or was short with you or whatever.”  
  
 _Or whatever_ is right. She’s not sure what exactly she’s apologizing for, but she has a sneaking suspicion that it’s for not kissing Kelley in the safety of that alley. Kelley shakes her head but she looks away a little. “You’re not the one that should be apologizing. I was way outta line. This is your pad, you know? Your home. Your city.”  
  
But she doesn’t say ‘I didn’t mean it’ or ‘I didn’t know what I was saying’, and that’s enough. Or too much. Hope’s still not sure what she wants, really.  
  
“I shouldn’t have gotten into your space,” Kelley continues after another sip, absently tooling with the hem of her Stanford t-shirt, “and I definitely shouldn’t have pressed you about, um.. about Adrian. It was severely uncool of me.”  
  
“I meant it when I said I didn’t care,” Hope blurts before she can catch herself. Kelley looks up at her and she clears her throat. “I mean, if you had- if- I’m over him.” She can’t say she would have been alright with it because truth be told she wouldn’t have been, but she also knows it wouldn’t be because she missed Adrian.  
  
Kelley nods a little and Leo wriggles in between them again. It seems like that’s his new favorite place- between them- and Kelley reaches down with her free hand to pet him, which gives Hope a pang of something she doesn’t know how to name. She blurts out something else instead of dwelling on it.  
  
“Can I ask you a question?”  
A small smile plays at the corner of Kelley’s mouth. “You just did.”  
  
“Do you even like girls?”  
  
It’s like Kelley doesn’t even react. She just keeps petting the stupid dog and eventually shrugs. Hope bites back her frustration (she has, after all, just apologized for being short with this kid, but Kelley just makes it so _difficult_ ).   
  
“What does that mean?”  
  
Kelley shrugs again. “I don’t know. I never really thought about it.”

  
Hope blows air through her lips, takes a long drink of her coffee (black, she needs it like that this morning). Kelley seems to get the idea and elaborates a little, just as unperturbed as before. “I mean, there wasn’t a lot of time for boys in high school. And then I went to Stanford and had even less time and still managed to, uh, experiment a lot, but I never really tried to label myself or anything. It just never seemed important.”  
  
“So...sometimes?”  
  
Kelley grins.  
  
“Yeah. Sometimes.”  
  
She doesn’t ask the same question and Hope wonders if it’s because she knows.  
  
.,.  
  
She doesn’t want to read into things but her natural curiosity makes her wonder why Hope even bothered to ask. She can see that Hope’s still a little nervous to be alone with her without having something concrete to do (and she understands because she feels the same), so when Hope suggests a hike she jumps at the chance to do something physical.  
  
Hope puts Kelley in charge of navigation. The GPS is of the sort that hardly helps (and Hope admits she’s only been to this trail a few times before) so Kelley has to break out her iPhone and try to navigate through Google maps, which is easier said than done, though Hope insists she’s being purposely dense. “If you get us lost,” she says, a smile in her tone, “I’ll tell you one thing: the dog’s not going to be the first to go.”  
  
Leo snores.  
  
It takes them twenty minutes to get onto the highway when it should have taken about five, but by that time Kelley is convinced that is the worst she’s gonna screw up. She successfully navigates through a highway switch (“You’re missing the exit! You just passed it! No wait is that the exit? I think that’s it”), a ‘pretentious’ satellite radio station (“They really should just call it ‘Hipster Radio’ instead of Coffeehouse. Since that’s what it is. Though I couldn’t possibly expect better from a Northwesterner”) and Hope’s passionate hatred of Ke$ha (“I don’t know what century you’re living in, but she’s a visionary and your hands better not leave that steering wheel”), and they arrive at the trailhead without further incidents, as far as Kelley’s concerned.  
  
.,.  
  
Hope wishes she could say she was annoyed.  
  
Technically speaking, Kelley should have been annoying the shit out of her- knowing her preference for either being alone or in the company of someone quiet and reasonable- but for whatever reason she’s been laughing at Kelley’s jokes and encouraging her when anyone- her included- would expect she’d have throttled the defender by now.  
  
But she hasn’t.   
  
The trailhead is deserted (which is nice, and is part of why she chose this trail, though she’s only been once before), a few cars parked here and there. The information kiosk is empty but there are maps and pamphlets tacked up on a corkboard that Kelley gleefully flips through, making sure they have one of each, even one entitled “Hiking Safely” that Hope is pretty sure was marketed toward five year olds (that’s probably why Kelley’s drawn to it).  
  
Leo can hardly contain himself and the way he winds around Hope’s legs and speeds in little circles, tail wagging a mile a minute, so perfectly matches Kelley’s mindless chattering that Hope has to bite back a laugh. “Come on,” she says, bumping Kelley’s shoulder with her own, “It’s literally a straight trail. We don’t need a map.”  
  
Kelley follows her, pocketing the maps, and Leo follows her, panting and drooling and generally having the time of his life.  
  
“Me Hope Solo,” Kelley jokes, dropping her voice at least an octave, trotting to catch up, “Me no need map. Me use sense of smell to direct pack to shelter.”  
  
“Correct,” Hope replies, not missing a beat, “and if you wanna be part of that pack, you better watch it. The forest comes to an end pretty early on and I will not hesitate to push you in front of a car.”  
  
“You _wouldn’t_ ,” Kelley says, “You like me too much.”  
  
Hope raises an eyebrow, but says nothing. Leo surges ahead, snuffling in the undergrowth, and chases a squirrel out of its hiding spot.  
  
.,.  
  
She’s momentarily distracted by the squirrel until it’s safely out of Leo’s reach and halfway up a tree, but all the while she’s wondering about Hope’s smirk, about the life of her eyebrow and what it all means. She knows what she wants it to mean. She wants Hope to give her a chance, because she hasn’t so far. She wants all of Hope’s “no”s to have been a part of her needless bravado, her facade, the walls that keep everyone else out.  
  
She wants to be let in.  
  
She falls into silence as she follows Hope along the trail. It narrows as they approach the road, and for a while, with cars passing and their formation single file, there’s no pressure to talk, because Hope wouldn’t hear her anyway.  
  
When the trail widens again, Hope slows down until they’re walking in stride, Leo sometimes ahead of them, sometimes with them, sometimes behind. She’s glad she doesn’t have too much trouble with hangovers- a lingering headache and dry mouth are all that she notices, and even those, with the combination of a cup of coffee and clear park air, are starting to fade.  
  
“So,” she says, clearing her throat, “Are you, like...having people over, for Thanksgiving? I know your family lives really closeby.”  
  
Hope glances at her and it’s not unfriendly but she still feels a rush to explain herself- “I read your book,” she blurts, which opens up all _kinds_ of new and awkward windows. Because that doesn’t just mean, ‘I read her book’. It also means, ‘I know about your dad’, which, in the context of her question, makes things very awkward indeed.  
  
Hope doesn’t seem too bothered by it, maybe because she’s published her family history for the world to read. “Usually my brother and his family come over,” she answers, so casually that Kelley feels stupid for thinking any of this was awkward to begin with, “and my mom and stepdad if they’re up for it.”  
  
Kelley nods, wondering what that means for her, and it’s like Hope reads her mind. “They’ll like you,” she says, almost gently.   
  
Kelley leaves it.  
  
.,.  
  
Kelley leaves it for once and Hope is astonished. The rest of the walk passes innocuously- when they get back, they sit at the open meadow rest area for a while and Kelley fools around with Leo. The sky starts to darken, and Hope suggests they head back to the car, but no sooner are the words out of her mouth that the heavens open up.  
  
By the time they’re in the car, they’re soaked to the bone, all three of them. Hope’s laughing under her breath at the surprise on Kelley’s face when she says, “I haven’t seen weather that weird anywhere except Georgia,” which Hope decides not to be offended by.  
  
Leo flops down in the backseat and is asleep almost immediately.  
  
“Did you suggest a hike to tucker _him_ out,” Kelley asks, shuffling in her seat a little, “or me?” Hope just laughs. Kelley starts messing with the navigation as they drive, but somehow, with the downpour and unfamiliar mountain roads, they end up in dead end after dead end.   
  
Kelley starts to panic.  
  
Hope realizes it about five minutes into the ordeal- Kelley’s speaking faster than ever, and she’s not being any more helpful than she was a few minutes ago- and when she does notice, she’s not sure whether to park the car and smack some sense into her, or keep driving and ignore it. The main issue is that she’s still got no idea where she’s going. Or where they are.   
  
“I got us lost,” Kelley says mournfully, and for a panic-stricken moment Hope is fairly sure she’s crying.   
  
“We’re not lost."  
“Do you know where we are?”  
  
She’s tempted to say ‘yes’ just because she’d hate to crush the little inflection of hope in Kelley’s voice, but lying wouldn’t help them anyway. “Um, no. Not...right this second.”  
  
“We’re lost!”  
“We’re not lost. We have a GPS. We _can’t_ be lost.”  
“It doesn’t have any road names. I know which squiggly line we’re on.”  
“Kelley, it _has_ to have road names.”  
“It doesn’t! Do you want me to mess with the settings or something?”  
“ _No_ ,” Hope practically shouts, and then calms herself, turning back onto the trailhead after what has probably been their third attempt at navigating  away from it, “no, please don’t. Just leave it. I’ll try with my phone. You keep using the GPS.”  
  
There’s no reception. Well- of course there isn’t, they’re out on a mountain in the middle of Washington in a torrential downpour and that would have been far too convenient. Kelley’s messing with the GPS still, but Hope can see that her hands are shaking, and against her better judgement she pockets her phone and reaches over to stop her.  
Kelley’s hands are cool and dry and impossibly little. When Hope touches her, Kelley looks up.  
  
“I got us lost.”  
“No.”  
“We’re lost, aren’t we?”  
“...yes.”  
“And it’s my fault.”  
  
Her hands shake again. Hope is starting to get desperate and she knows that’s only going to end in her doing something stupid.  
  
“It’s not your fault, Kelley. You don’t even live here. I do.”  
“But you put me in charge of the, the navigation, and I couldn’t even use it the first time, I had to use my phone and now it’s raining and we’re lost-”  
  
.,.  
  
Just like that Hope is upon her.  
  
It’s not as if she were breathing well beforehand, but she finds that she really can’t breathe and then realizes that’s because Hope is kissing her.  
  
Hope Solo. Is kissing her.  
  
Sober.  
  
And somehow the strangest part of this is still the fact that Hope is holding her hands (she presumes in order to keep her from fucking up the GPS any more than she already has). It barely takes her a second to kiss back, and she, never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, leans forward out of habit and tries to bring them closer.  
  
It’s definitely awkward. There’s a console between them, after all, and the smell of damp ground and wet dog is everywhere, but it’s a moment, and it’s nice. Until it’s not.  
  
Hope pulls back, and her face is so blank and unreadable that Kelley panics all over again, because now she’s lost in Washington state in a downpour with a woman who just kissed her for no apparent reason and is housing her for the forseeable future.   
  
“I can’t do this anymore.”

  
Kelley bites the inside of her cheek and raises an eyebrow.  
  
“Anymore? That was barely ten seconds.”  
  
She’s trying to play it off, to see how Hope’s going to play it before she decides on anything serious to say, and it works. Hope looks down and blows air through her lips.   
  
“You know what I mean.”  
  
This is way different from “No, you’re drunk” or “what are friends for”. It sounds like Hope’s trying to convince herself, and Kelley figures that while they’re trapped in a car in the middle of nowhere and Hope can’t run away from her, she might as well lend a helping hand. So to speak.  
  
.,.  
  
She was right- desperation had driven her to do what Kelley had been trying to coerce her into doing since the last time they were drunk together. And it’s not as if it had been against her will, either, this time she had initiated it and she’s terrified that she’s started something she’s not going to be able to control.  
  
And, as always, Kelley has something to say about it.  
  
“Hope.”  
  
She looks up and Kelley is smiling at her like she’s a kid who’s just made some kind of  callow mistake. It makes her heart leap into her throat, even with the part of her that hates being belittled.  
  
“You can’t dump me.”  
  
She almost says ‘I wasn’t dumping you’, but then she thinks about it and decides not to speak at all. The only other thing she can think to say is ‘I can if I want to’, which seems really immature, and Kelley’s not done anyway.  
  
“I mean, you can, but if you’re gonna dump me...at least give me something to miss.”  
  
“Shut up,” Hope finally says, or growls, really, because that’s the _stupidest, cheesiest_ thing anybody has ever said to her, and instead of listening to any more of it she leans over and kisses Kelley into silence.  
  
.,.

  
This time it’s Hope who leans forward over the console, and Kelley has to reach back behind her for something to steady herself on. What she forgets is that they’re in a car. The heel of her hand presses against a button and her window starts to roll down.  
  
She yelps, expecting rain, but nothing happens except that Hope, her face only inches away, just grins.  
  
“The rain’s stopped. Ready to blaze a trail back, Clark?”  
  
Kelley grins. She’s ready to blaze a trail anywhere now that she’s found the way into Hope’s psyche.  
  
“Sure thing, Lewis. Ready the oxen.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's nothing serious. It's just a couch. It's just the rain. (It's just a fall.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the rating moves up to M this chapter so i mean its pretty obvious what's going on here, you know the drill- comments are lovely, i love all of you, etc etc. there are two more chapters of this fic omg we're getting so close to done!!!!!! finals are coming so i'm sorry if i don't update much but yeah i mean enjoy i guess??

So maybe it's not perfect.   
  
Maybe it's pouring when they stumble out of the muddy car, and Leo is confined, soaked, to the garage. Maybe she trips over the rug in the threshold and when they kiss again it's misaligned and rushed and their noses bump together.   
  
But it's perfect to her.   
  
Hope drops her bag and the sound of it hitting the ground makes Kelley jump (though she'd never admit how nervous she is, how sure she is that she'll screw something up). Hope takes advantage of Kelley's momentary distraction and uses the leverage of her arms around Kelley’s lower back to essentially pick her up and shove her against a wall. There’s hardly any response time at all; Kelley’s buzzing all over and where Hope’s hands are supporting and strong on her lower back she can’t keep her own hands still.   
  
.,.  
  
Somehow, Hope realizes  she expected this- this lack of focus in the way Kelley touches her. She stops trying to keep track after a while, because one moment Kelley’s hand is in her hair, the next it’s on her jaw, her neck, the collar of her jacket. Instead she deepens the kiss, pressing forward and pinning the shorter woman effectively with the weight of her body until Kelley finally stills, sucking in a breath.   
  
They breathe.   
  
Hope slips a leg between Kelley's and watches the change, the tension that gathers in Kelley's shoulders and the way her eyes start to darken.  
  
Hope doesn't know why she suddenly wants to take her time- that implies a connection with Kelley that's far deeper than what they have (physical attraction and mutual friendship), or so she believes. It's a little scary to entertain the thought that Kelley might feel or want something more. It's a lot scary that she can't help giving in to her instinct to tilt Kelley's head up with her thumb and linger at the juncture of neck and shoulder.   
  
Kelley's skin tastes like rain and her fingers are digging into the back of Hope's neck. Hope pushes her leg forward- the one between Kelley's thighs- and feels a sharp something fill her at the soft noise that follows, scraping her teeth across Kelley's collarbone and the place where she can feel the pulse jump against her lips.   
  
.,.  
  
The last time they did this she was dizzy drunk and winging it. She's still winging it, this time sober, but she feels about as drunk as she knows she was the first time. Her legs are threatening to give on her at any moment, her heart is pounding like she's just run  a set of sprints barefoot in a sandpit, and it's taking all of her willpower not to press against Hope's leg. Which she's sure is the exact reason why Hope put it there, but she's not far enough gone yet to embarrass herself completely. Just mostly.   
  
Kelley moves her free hand- the one that's not gripping the back of Hope neck like its the only thing keeping her upright- to the hem of Hope's shirt, just at her hipbone, and slides her fingertips over warm skin. Hope jumps like she's surprised Kelley is still capable of movement, which sends another jolt right through Kelley who is still pinned to the wall and ultimately helpless and quickly losing her resolve.   
  
They kiss again and she pushes her hand all the way under Hope’s shirt. When she does she immediately feels Hope’s teeth come down on her bottom lip and reacts without having time to think about it- jerks forward, sucking in a breath. Her entire body jerks forward, including her hips, which puts her in direct contact with Hope’s knee just like she’s spent the last few minutes actively trying not to do.   
  
“Couch,” she gasps, squeezing her eyes shut, her knees threatening to give. Hope doesn’t move, but Kelley can hear the grin in her voice when she speaks again.  
  
.,.  
  
“What’s the matter, O’Hara, can’t handle me standing up?”  
  
She’s enjoying this too much, enjoying watching Kelley unravel and knowing it’s all because of her. Eventually Kelley opens her eyes, and when she does Hope shifts again so that her knee is a little higher. She likes that she can see Kelley’s breath hitch when she does that. Considers doing it again.  
  
“I could take you any time, any place,” Kelley says, far too smoothly than she ought to be able to manage. Somehow Hope doesn’t doubt it. Kelley pushes at her a little, and truth be told if she really wanted to she could have resisted, but she doesn’t see the point. Not with Kelley looking at her like that, anyway.   
  
(It’s just sex.)  
  
She follows Kelley down, the pull-out bed creaking under their combined weight, and immediately sets to work fixing the fact that there’s a layer of clothing between her and Kelley’s skin.   
  
.,.  
  
She’s trying to keep up, but Hope’s so focused on the whole clothes thing that it’s not until Kelley’s topless that she can manage to get the upper hand.  
  
To her pleasant surprise, Hope lets her flip them over, and as much as Kelley would like to think she has the self-control to be teasing or sexy or anything other than desperate, she knows pretty quickly that’s not going to happen. She also knows pretty quickly that flipping them doesn’t give her the advantage that she thought it would. Instead it’s frees Hope’s hands, which start at Kelley’s hips and slide up along her sides. Kelley can’t fight the instinct to squirm a little, still ticklish, even with desire shortening her breaths, and Hope laughs, a low, sexy sound that gives Kelley goosebumps.  
  
Their lips meet again and Hope sits up. Kelley grabs at her to keep her alance, clawing at the back of Hope’s sweater until she can tug it off and toss it to the side. In that reprieve Hope apparently decides that Kelley’s chest is way more interesting than finishing the whole undressing thing, and Kelley retaliates by dropping a hand to the hem of Hope’s yoga pants and tugging at them to get her point across.

  
Hope doesn’t do what Kelley’s trying to get her to do, not that she’s particularly surprised by that or even has the ability to function mentally at a level where she could be surprised by anything. The point stands, though, that Hope doesn’t back off and get a little less clothed, instead she ignores Kelley’s hand and continues her conquest.   
  
.,.  
  
She flicks open the clasp of Kelley’s bra on the first try and gets rid of it as quickly as possible. Kelley’s got a hand between them, working at the hem of her pants, but presently she’s a little too absorbed in tasting as much of Kelley’s skin as she can to do what Kelley wants her to do.   
  
Again with the taking her time.  
  
She can’t help herself, though- Kelley’s skin is soft and freckly and Kelley reacts to everything like it’s been a long, long time since she’s been touched- so she stops trying to. Kelley’s not going to fight her, after all, as far as Hope can tell she’s only ever done anything like this once before and she was pretty drunk-  
  
But Kelley surprises her. As usual.  
  
Apparently her lack of cooperation in the undressing department is enough to give Kelley the guts to push things a little further, because Hope knows she’s not imagining the hand down the front of her pants- no, she’s definitely not, and that’s not fair at all because she wasn’t done counting the freckles across Kelley’s collarbones.  
  
Trust Kelley to hit her with a reality check. This isn’t about Kelley’s excess of freckles, this is about sex, and she’s being an idiot again.   
  
She takes off the damn pants.  
  
.,.  
  
It’s like she’s flipped some kind of switch.  
  
Before she knows it she’s on her back again. She remembers the first time being breathless and fast but sober it’s not any different, it’s Hope moving over her, it’s lips by her ear and her lungs aching for air and her arms hooked through Hope’s and her fingernails digging into Hope’s biceps. It’s her rocking up and Hope pressing down.  
  
She tries to suck in a breath, hooking her leg behind the crook of Hope’s knee,and for a moment there’s a pause before Hope twists her hand (that shouldn’t even be physically _possible_ but it’s Hope so of course it is) and Kelley arches off the mattress, all her inhibitions completely gone.  
  
.,.  
  
That’s when she hears it.  
  
Kelley’s at the top, she’s taut and Hope knows that if she wants she can finish this in a heartbeat, and just when she decides she’s going to, Kelley says her name.  
  
“Hope,” Kelley breathes, and Hope feels it on the side of her neck, feels it shooting down her spine.   
  
She lets her lips rest just below Kelley’s ear and does something she hasn’t done in a long time- she holds. She holds onto Kelley when her breath hitches again and she arches up. She holds Kelley, their bodies flush, until her breathing has evened, and then, when she least expects it, Kelley flips them over and Hope loses concentration and it doesn’t matter anymore that they clearly passed the line of ‘just sex’ a long while back.  
  
.,.  
  
Returning the favor is a lot easier than she expects it to be.  
  
Hope fights her at first, initially with a look and then with her hands, pushing just a little, like she thinks it’s a joke, but Kelley is nothing if she’s not stubborn.   
  
Hope stops fighting the second Kelley’s hand slips between her legs.  
  
Kelley knows that she clings- she’s like that in her sleep, too- but she’s surprised that Hope does, surprised at the hand on the back of her neck and the lips pressed against hers. Hope is responsive, too, and Kelley’s addicted to getting a reaction out of her, so she tries everything until Hope threads a hand into her hair and tugs.   
  
She gets the point. She shifts her hips forward just as she tilts her hand again and Hope’s lips leave hers and she’s never heard anyone make a noise like that for her but she wants to haer it again.  
  
She knows instinctively that Hope hates feeling vulnerable and that this is a vulnerable moment, but that’s where the knowing stops.  
  
.,.

  
It takes Hope a solid minute and a  half to realize that she just had sex on a pull-out couch with a teammate (which she has actually done before, although it wasn’t this couch, it was Abby’s). If it were that simple she’d know how to play it off, but Kelley’s also her friend and she’s hopelessly confused herself.   
  
She has apparently also confused Kelley, who’s looking down at her like she wants to do something but is too apprehensive to actually do it.  
  
It’s raining still. Hope can hear it, and her heartbeat.  
  
“I think at this point,” she says to break the silence and whatever trance she’s in, “it’s safe to say we’ll be getting takeout tonight.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanksgiving is coming fast and neither of them are very good at communicating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dudes this is a long chapter i just realized today so anyway i hope you enjoy it!! there are 2 chapters left after this i lied last time ok yes good

Hope wakes with Kelley's arm draped over her middle and Kelley's head resting on her shoulder.  
  
It takes all her self control to stay still- part of her wants to jerk away from the contact because she's surprised and unsure of the situation, the other wants to push the hair out of Kelley's face and kiss her awake. She does neither. Kelley must intuitively feel the change in her breathing, though, because after a few moment she stirs, tightening her arm around Hope's waist and letting out a sigh before her eyes flutter open.   
  
The look on her face is a look that threatens Hope's well-fortified emotional walls. It's content. It's sleep-lidded eyes and a soft smile and the glow of sunset through the far window alighting on Kelley's jaw and freckles.   
  
Sunset.   
  
"Shit. I have to feed the dog."  
  
.,.  
  
Kelley feels oddly off-kilter when Hope leaves. Off-kilter and lost.  
  
She knows her way around, now, but this new territory is more of a minefield than she expected it to be. Is she supposed to act like nothing has changed? Is she supposed to ask if something is different?  
  
What she _does_ do is put her clothes back on, and by the time she’s done that Hope is back in the house, looking a little hassled and distracted.   
  
“I forgot I’m dropping Leo off at the kennel tonight. I think I also forgot to tell you people start arriving tomorrow. But-” there’s a smile, then, and it’s genuine and Kelley can’t help but sidle a little closer, “that’s kinda your fault for distracting me.”  
  
Kelley grins and finds that with Hope so close she _does_ have the guts to lean up on her tiptoes and kiss her.   
  
“I’ll be back in a half hour. Don’t burn my house down.”  
“You’re no fun.”  
“No power tools either. Don’t make me lock the shop.”  
“What am I supposed to do for thirty whole minutes?”  
“Entertain yourself.”  
“Without flame or power tools?”  
“You went to Stanford. You’re not stupid. You’ll figure something out.”  
.,.  
  
She does figure something out.   
  
While Hope is gone she uncovers couscous and frozen peas and has the brilliant idea of attempting to cook.  
  
It isn’t supposed to be difficult but somehow she manages to make it difficult, and the couscous comes out gritty and the peas are too soft but she tried at least, and she’s killed time, because she just manages to find glasses and utensils before she hears Hope drive up and flat-out panics.  
  
.,.  
  
She walks in the door and immediately wants to turn around and walk back out.  
  
Or run back out.  
  
It smells like food and that’s enough to scare her before she even sees Kelley, standing by her little dining room table looking simultaneously like she’s just caused the apocalypse and like she’s trying to make a good impression.  
  
She cooked.  
  
Well, more accurately, she seems to have tried to cook.  
  
“I...made dinner.”  
  
She’s never had deja vu this impossibly real before and she has to set her purse down on the counter and brace herself with one hand as it washes over her. Months ago. A different house- an apartment- but the same layout, essentially (how did she not realize that before? Was a subconscious part of her trying to replicate it when she bought this place?), and Adrian in Kelley’s place, wringing his hands, dark eyes fixed on her.  
  
And now Kelley, picking nervously at a fingernail, waiting for Hope to speak- it’s too familiar to her.  
  
“You shouldn’t have.”  
  
It doesn’t sound like she means it to sound- oh, you _shouldn’t_ have (but I’m glad you did). It sounds like she feels. It sounds like an accusation. Kelley visibly deflates and Hope fights the urge to backpedal and apologize.

  
“Why not?”  
  
“Because. It’s not like we’re in a relationship or something.”  
  
It’s biting and she’s surprised at how much it hurts her to say it. Yes, the purpose was to hurt Kelley, and yes, that makes her a shitty person (but that’s nothing new). She’s thrown for a loop that she feels a hot pang of shame go through her when Kelley registers what she’s saying, draws back a little with sudden hurt and understanding.  
  
For the first time since they’ve known each other Kelley breaks eye contact and drops her gaze to the floor. She nods after a moment and Hope struggles to pull in a breath, taking a step forward because she’s not sure what else to do- offer comfort? Apologize? Take it back?  
  
“I need some air,” Kelley says, so quietly Hope thinks she might have imagined it.  
  
Their shoulders brush when Kelley passes her and when the door closes she whirls and kicks hard at the dog bowl resting by her feet.  
  
.,.  
  
She knows better. That’s the problem.  
  
She knows better than to stay here and let someone use her and toy with her. She knew better than to think Hope actually felt anything for her (how could she, when Kelley had done all the pushing?). But she stayed. Her stupid pigheadedness had kept her from letting go when she needed to, and now she’s stuck at Hope’s house when she’s clearly not as welcome as she thought.  
  
If Hope weren’t inside she’d pack and disappear.  
  
As it is she wanders around to Hope’s backyard, noticing the way her jeans drag in the puddles from the afternoon’s downpour but barely caring enough to do anything about it. She can hear, as if from miles away, Hope’s stupid cuckoo clock go off.  
  
It’s six.  
  
She rolls up her pant legs and sits at the edge of the pool, wet to her knees, and within a minute the cat- Captain something, she doesn’t remember- is butting its head into her arm. She assumes this means it wants to be pet and tries lifting a hand and letting it sniff her. It doesn’t seem too interested in the smelling part- just rubs its face on the heel of her hand- so she tries scratching under its chin, but it dodges out of her reach.

  
Eventually she gives up and the cat just sits and rubs its face on her arm while she kicks her feet in the water and tries not to think about anything at all.  
  
.,.  
  
Hope leans out the bedroom balcony and immediately regrets it.  
  
Kelley’s trying to pet the cat like a dog.  
  
She heaves another frustrated sigh and slips out the door, taking the quickest way into the backyard so that Kelley won’t have a chance to run from her, even though she knows that’s what any person in their right mind would do. The thing is- and this is part of why she’s in this position in the first place- she was never entirely sure that Kelley was in her right mind to begin with.  
  
Kelley looks up at her for half a second when she pads out onto the wet pool deck but immediately looks away again. Sully leaves Kelley’s side to wind around and between Hope’s ankles and she takes a deep breath, determined not to screw up any more than she already has in one day.   
  
“I think you might...have gotten the wrong idea.”  
  
Kelley snorts. “Clearly.”  
  
“No. What I mean is that I think I may have given you the wrong idea.”  
  
Kelley doesn’t answer, just swishes her foot around in the pool some more and looks justifiably morose.   
  
“I just need some time to figure out what’s going on in my head.”  
“Good luck with that.”  
“Kelley- my family comes into town tomorrow.”  
“You want me to leave?”  
  
“ _No_ ,” Hope blurts, then turns away a little, rubbing the back of her neck. Sully bites at one of her toes. “No. That’s not what I’m saying. I just need about 36 hours to survive Thanksgiving and then we’ll talk.”  
  
Kelley draws her feet out of the water and her knees up to her chest and Hope has to swallow when she realizes what a _kid_ Kelley is. “Talk?”  
  
“That’s the best I can promise right now.  And I know you deserve better. And I wouldn’t blame you if you...left.”  
  
To her surprise Kelley breaks out in a grin and makes eye contact- something that startles Hope so much she rocks back on her heels a little.

“I’m not gonna leave. Someone has to help you manage all that food.”  
“If by manage you mean _eat_ ,” Hope laughs, reaching down to offer a hand.  
  
Kelley takes it and Hope pulls Kelley to her feet, vividly reminded of the lakefront park a few days ago. Their faces are close again and a few hours ago Hope might have expected Kelley to kiss her. Now she’s not sure what she expects- needless to say what she wants- but Kelley just sidles past her.  
  
“You gonna let my home-cooked dinner get cold, or are you coming?”  
  
.,.  
  
Part of her still wonders if leaving isn’t still her best option.   
  
It’s not that she’s uncomfortable, it’s that the longer she stays, the longer she wants to stay and the harder it gets to imagine going. She also knows that the way things have gone lately, the best thing for her would be to hightail it out of there and forget this tryst as fast as possible.   
  
But she can’t.   
  
The couscous isn’t half bad when Hope’s smiling at her across it. Cleaning isn’t, either, and she wields the Swiffer Hope thrusts into her hands with flair that  is apparently reminiscent of the Spice Girls (“though you’re probably too young to remember them”, Hope says, “since you’re, what, nineteen?”). They make their way around the house together, cleaning, Kelley singing loudly along to the Glee playlist that’s playing out of the phone in her back pocket.  
  
By the time they make it into the informally-dubbed ‘ping-pong room’, she’s started to forget a little bit. On purpose, but still, she’s managed to put most of it behind her. She’s not looking forward to the ‘talk’ she’s been promised, but for now, she can enjoy the eye of the storm.   
  
The eye of the storm lasts about twenty minutes.  
  
“You know, no matter what the media thinks, it was me that ended it.”  
  
.,.  
  
She picks at the peeling doorframe paint and takes a deep breath before she keeps going.  
  
“With Adrian. He didn’t dump me.”  
  
Kelley, ever the chatterbox, is stubbornly silent and Hope wishes she was being given something to work with because she’s about to take this way too far but isn’t sure that she can stop herself. She sighs and leans into the frame, avoiding eye contact but hearing Kelley lean the Swiffer against the wall and hop up to sit on the ping-pong table.  
  
“I ended up loving him so much more than I expected to. I...he was my best friend. And There were things I did that I don’t think I could have done without him. The recovery from surgery.... he believed in me and I couldn’t bear to think of letting him down so I worked through the pain.” But not this. She didn’t want this again- the wound isn’t as fresh but reopening hurts more than she expected it to. She’s already been through this once. She doesn’t want to do it again.  
  
But she will. Because Kelley deserves to hear it.  
  
“You don’t have to tell me this,” Kelley says, softly, and Hope looks up to catch her gaze. “I’m not doing it because I feel like I have to,” she replies, as calm as she can imagine being. “I’m doing it because I want to. Do you not want to hear it?”  
  
“I want to hear it,” is Kelley’s quick reply, though Hope can see she’s trying not to look too eager. “Anything you want to tell me, I want to hear.”  
  
God. Of course.  
  
“It’s...we overdid it. It went on for longer than it should have, probably, because we were both too comfortable being together and too unfamiliar with being apart, but really it stopped working a long time before I was brave enough to do anything about it. And it wasn’t that anything in particular had happened, just that things changed. I changed. He had seen me grow into someone who knew herself and because I knew myself I didn’t need him around anymore. He didn’t know who to be in my life other than the man picking up my pieces and putting me back together. When I was done falling apart he felt useless.”  
  
He _was_. And she had gotten tired of having a reminder of her lesser days hanging around but she didn’t want to admit that out loud; it was callous. She lets the silence hang for a few moments as she weighs her options, lets it go long enough that Kelley apparently feels the need to fill it. “So...what did you tell him?”  
  
Hope sighs, remembering Adrian in the kitchen, remembering Kelley in the kitchen. Waiting for her.  
  
“I told him we should see other people. He was confused but he was fine a lot faster than I was. He was fine a lot faster than I expected him to be. We’re still friends, obviously, and he’s still really important in my life, but it’s not like it was.”  
  
Kelley shifts on the top of the table, dropping her eyes to the ground. “You could go back to him,” she says, just above a whisper. “He’d be crazy not to take you back.”  
  
.,.  
  
She can say for a fact Adrian would be crazy to refuse Hope because she can also say with confidence that Hope is worth her weight in gold as a woman, as a goalie, as a friend. She can say that he should take her back because if she were in his place she’s not sure she would have let Hope go in the first place.  
  
“I’m not telling you this so that you can give me _relationship_ _advice_.” Hope’s reply is biting and Kelley looks up, surprised, before she can think better of it. Hope is looking right at her, with a look on her face she usually reserves for a striker whose shot has slipped past her. Kelley scrambles to recover, feeling her hands start to sweat. “I’m just, I mean... I’m just saying.”  
  
“Well stop saying. If I wanted to go back to him I’d have done it already. I knew what I was doing when I did it. I had the chance to marry him if I wanted to. He’d have proposed at the drop of a hat if I had given him any kind of sign that’s what I wanted.”  
  
Kelley’s panicky now, and hurt, and confused, so her reply comes out shriller than she means it to and maybe a little defensive- “So, what? What do you want me to tell you, good job? It’s not like you have trouble patting yourself on the back, okay? Good for you. Whatever. I don’t understand why you felt like you needed to share.”  
  
.,.  
  
 _Because I’m over him and I just want you_ is what she’s been trying to say but she can’t say it out loud, can’t say it explicitly, and Kelley’s not getting it and Hope can’t try to talk about it anymore because it’s going nowhere- and if she’s being honest the ‘pat on the back’ comment kind of pissed her off, so instead of trying to address it rationally she lunges forward to where Kelley is perched on top of her pool table and kisses her.  
  
Kelley’s hands are immediately fisted into Hope’s shirt by her waist, pulling her closer, pulling her so that Hope is standing between Kelley’s legs. The kiss is messy and rough and Kelley bites at Hope’s lower lip like she’s just _asking_ for it.   
  
She can’t find it in her to feel bad about it when she shoves Kelley back  so that her back hits the table.   
  
She’s not at all confident that the table is going to hold but she’s beyond the point of caring when she clambers onto it, pinning Kelley under her. For a second Kelley resists, trying to sit up a little, reaching for Hope, but she doesn’t get too far before Hope pushes her back again.  
  
.,.  
  
Kelley’s smart enough to know that this is about power, but she _wants_ it. She wants Hope. She wants Hope enough that it doesn’t matter the circumstances and she doesn’t mind the fact that out of the power here, she has none. The ping pong net is collapsed under her upper back and Hope’s hips are still between her legs. The table is creaking a little and for a moment she wonders if it’ll hold- remembers wondering that the day she’d gotten here, before all of this happened- but then Hope rolls her hips and she kind of forgets about anything else.   
  
Hope’s lips have moved along her neck to her shoulder where she’s pushed the straps of Kelley’s bra and tank top away. If she hadn’t already been confused by Hope’s give and take- by being pushed away, then let back in, then pushed away again- Hope’s determination to leave a mark would have done the trick. Still, it’s her _shoulder_ \- easy to cover. Easy to hide. The table's legs fold up on one side and they slide down with it as it jolts to the ground, but it barely makes them pause. Hope, particularly, doesn't seem too fazed about it.  
  
She should say no. She knows Hope would let her go- she knows that if she made it abundantly clear that she was not consenting Hope wouldn’t push her. But she doesn’t want to say no. She wants to be able to pretend that there’s something more to this than physical attraction and it’s easier to do that when Hope’s not talking.  
  
So she lets it go.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope told Kelley the family would like her, but nobody likes Kelley quite as much as Hope does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh God you guys fhaslkdjfla okay so in an earlier chapter I mentioned Hope's step dad but apparently he died before the Olympics so pretend I didn't mention him okay this chapter is really dumb and domestic and fluffy and I'm sorry but please don't bill me for your cavities

Once more Hope wakes up before Kelley does, but this time she escapes, carefully replacing her own torso with a pillow so that Kelley is still holding something. Kelley shifts a little, frowning in her sleep, and then nuzzles into the pillow, tightening her arm around it.  
  
Hope wants to scream.  
  
She’s gotten herself into a huge fucking mess and has no idea how to get out of it. She likes Kelley. A lot- probably more than she should, and definitely more than Kelley thinks she does. There’s something scratching to get out from in her, some half-formed sentence to right all the wrongs she’s pushed on this sleeping body in her bed, but none of them are coherent.  
  
Worst of all, she doesn’t have time to figure out how to apologize and explain herself, because it’s 8 am and she has 3 hours before family starts to show up at her house. She slips into leggings and a tunic top, pulls her hair back in all its natural, frizzy, wavy glory and leaves a note instead of waiting for things to get awkward.  
  
.,.  
  
 _Went to pick up some food for tonight. Don’t burn my house down. And don’t try to cook. People aren’t showing up until eleven._  
  
Kelley sighs and stretches, then settles on taking a shower to avoid thinking too hard about the fact that she has to meet Hope’s family with no idea how to introduce herself. It doesn’t work, of course, but there’s at least an attempt.  
  
She’s given up trying to understand what Hope wants because she knows she’s not a mind reader and asking has only gotten her so far. What she’s trying to figure out- and what she’s given herself as long as she can shower to understand- is what she wants. It’s a simple question that shouldn’t take fifteen minutes to answer but _does_ \- a question that makes her second-guess every moment she’s spent in Hope’s city.  
  
The soap swirls into the drain at her feet and she makes herself remember it all- the waterfront park and the heartbeat between their lips, the club, Adrian’s hands on her waist and Hope’s jacket fisted into her hands, the hike, the rain, and Hope leaning in to kiss her.  
  
She wants that.  
  
She’s known what she wanted since Hope’s lips hit her skin on an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar hotel room for the first time.  
.,.  
  
When Hope gets to the grocery store and sees the flowers on display, she’s immediately consumed with frustration so intense she has to fight the urge to kick something over. The flowers are on her left. She goes right.  
  
The entire time she’s collecting food she’s simultaneously trying to distract herself from thinking about Kelley and feeling guilty and the flowers that she knows she’s inching closer to with every second.  
  
She knows she was wrong to do what she did and choose _not_ to communicate. Hell, she’d known it when she made the decision to do it, but she’d done it anyway and now she’s imagining Kelley sitting back at the house alone and confused and probably hurt and it’s all her fault for not having the guts to talk about it.  
  
The truth is that Kelley intimidates the crap out of her. She’s honest and sweet and wants all the things Hope’s too afraid to let herself have again- and one of the things Hope likes the most about her is the thing that’s pushing her toward those flowers: Kelley’s not going to stand for her bullshit much longer. She’s too smart for that.  
  
So Hope buys the stupid flowers.  
  
.,.  
  
Kelley spends a little longer than she has the past few days making herself look presentable and wonders, briefly, why she’s bothering to dress up for Hope’s family when she’s been running into a brick wall for the past five days. She does, though; her pride has never been subject to much logic so she spends twenty minutes forcing her hair into soft, loose curls and puts on some neutral eyeshadow and gives herself enough of a blush to look like the chipper Southern girl she is and chill California girl she pretends to be. She slips into a pair of jeggings and a nice-ish shirt  and then she has cause to wonder why Hope would ring her own doorbell.  
  
But it’s not Hope.  
  
It’s a man.  
  
A rather large man with a kind face but Hope’s sharp eyes and nose, and a wide smile that all but disappears when he sees who’s opened the door. There’s a woman behind him- shorter than he is (which isn’t saying much) and friendly looking, and a boy holding her hand that can’t be older than eight.  
  
Somehow she manages not to panic.  
  
“Hi, come on in I’m- Hope went out to get some last minute stuff from the grocery store.”  
  
They follow her inside and now she’s glad it’s clean and glad she looks the way she does. She closes the door behind them and lets out a breath, whipping out her phone from her back pocket and shooting Hope a text.  
  
 _You said eleven. I think they thought I’d broken into your house._  
  
“I’m Marcus,” he says, sticking out a hand that Kelley’s pretty sure is the size of her face. “Kelley,” she offers, taking his hand. “O’Hara. A, uh-”  
  
“Teammate, right? I know I’ve seen you on the field.” Behind him, the woman Kelley assumes is his wife pipes up- “You’re the one who used to be a forward, right? I’m Colleen, Hope’s sister-in-law.” Handshakes abound- they’re certainly a friendly couple and Kelley’s really not sure _what_ she was expecting, but a visit from the Three Bears was not it. "And this is Johnny. Say hi, J."  
  
Kelley's forgotten all about the little boy, whose hands are now in his pockets. In comparison to both his parents he seems shy and wary, but he still offers a soft greeting when his mother urges him, complete with a quiet (but polite) "nice to meet you".  
  
She crouches so that she's at eye level with him and sticks out her hand, keeping her face every inch as serious as his when she says, "Nice to meet you, too, sir."  
  
His dark brows lift and his thin-lipped frown curves upward when he shakes her hand. "It's okay to call me Johnny," he confides, and she finally let's herself laugh.  
  
.,.  
  
She's in a full-out panic by the time she pulls up.  
  
Marcus' car in the driveway just confirms what Kelley's text made her fear- the apocalypse has come early. She bustles into the door with her arms full and the bouquet in her teeth and kicks the door shut behind her, startling the entire group- Marcus, Colleen, and Kelley, sitting at the kitchen counter, and Johnny, hunkered down in the living room.  
  
"Look who's back," Kelley says, chipper and genuine. "You don't have any open vases, you know."  
  
Hope almost snaps the flowers clean in half.  
  
Kelley looks perfect. Unfairly so. Hope drops the groceries off on the counter, the flowers still in her hand when she straightens herself out and goes to hug her family. That’s when she notices they’re sharing coffee, the three of them, like old friends, and then she remembers the flowers in her hand and clenches her jaw for a moment. “I need to talk to you for a second,” she murmurs, touching Kelley’s wrist and immediately hating herself for it.  
  
In the hallway it's much more difficult not to notice the change. Kelley's eyes are brought out by the smoky color of her eyeshadow, her freckles put into contrast by a smattering of blush. There's coffee on her breath and Hope wants more than anything to lean down and kiss her.  
  
"I thought they said eleven," is what she says instead. "Thanks for not flooding the house or locking them out or anything." Kelley is all but expressionless, leaning forward like she might press Hope into the wall, so instead of waiting for _that_ disaster Hope pushes Kelley away with the hand that holds the bouquet. "These are for you," she mutters, then retreats to the kitchen.  
  
.,.  
  
Flowers.  
  
That can't be anything but a romantic gesture. Kelley barely has time to put them in the bedroom before the doorbell rings again. Hope answers this time, and Kelley knows just from the squeal and hug that ensues that it's Hope's mother who's arrived.  
  
The three of them- Hope, Marcus, and their mother- have carbon-copy smiles. For a few moments it's like Kelley's disappeared, and watching Hope in those moments is a precious glimpse of the person she tries so hard to hide- warm and loving and open.  
  
And Kelley's a little bit in love with her.  
  
.,.  
  
The rest of the day is so filled with cooking that Hope is able to let go. Kelley is little help in the kitchen- Marcus is better- so she's relegated to Johnny duty while the rest of them rush to get dinner ready. It's a tradition for them to wait to cook until the day of, a tradition of procrastination and frenzy and lots of friendly banter that Hope slips into like a well-worn glove.  
  
She makes the mistake of taking a break, and when she does she notices Kelley and Johnny in the living room, a checkers board between them. “King me,” he says, triumphantly, and Kelley groans over-dramatically, flopping onto her back. “Come on, man, give me a break. Just this once. You’re about to beat me for, like, the seventieth time.”  
  
Johnny frowns at her and Hope almost laughs at how reminiscent it is- she’s seen that look on her own face hundreds of times in match photos, and hundreds more on her own mother’s face. “I am not,” he replies, hobbling over to Kelley on his knees, “I’ve only beaten you five times, and one time it was really close.” Kelley groans again and flings an arm over her eyes. “Come on,” Hope pipes up from her spot standing behind the couch, “be a good sport, let him beat you again. We’ll be done within the hour.”  
  
Kelley sits up and grins at her and Hope wishes she’d kept her mouth shut.  
  
“It’ll take him fifteen to slaughter me again, but all’s fair in love and war.”  
  
.,.  
  
She’s glad she didn’t cook because the dinner is better than anything she could ever have touched.  
  
Apparently the entire family is attractive, friendly, charming, and culinarily talented. Kelley doesn’t do much talking; she prefers to listen and watch, enthralled by this new Hope and the things her family has to say. They seem set on embarrassing Hope as much as possible by telling childhood stories, but Hope’s constant defense is good-natured and when their eyes meet over the table the smile she flashes is warm and genuine.  
  
The cleanup is something she knows she can do, and as a result she takes charge of it completely. For a while Hope resists, but eventually she succumbs to the O’Hara assembly-line style whirlwhind that leaves the table, the counters, the dishes, and the sink all spotless. Even Johnny helps, towel-drying the plates that don’t fit in the dishwasher. And Kelley feels Hope’s eyes on her when she bends down and takes the towel from his hands- feels Hope’s eyes on her when Marcus says, “We really should head home before it gets too late,” and Johnny lurches forward and attaches himself to her legs like he’s trying to glue himself there.  
  
“It was really wonderful to meet you,” Marcus says, but this time he doesn’t offer his hand, he pulls her into a bear hug like he’s known her for years. This is, Kelley realizes, one of the biggest differences between him and Hope: she doesn’t open up as fast as he does. She’s basking in the warmth of her family- and Kelley can see that- but she doesn’t give it off like that. Not consistently.  
  
But then Kelley remembers Hope grabbing her cold and shaking hands and remembers the burn of tequila in her throat and in Hope’s eyes and she thinks maybe it’s just a different kind of warmth after all.  
  
.,.  
  
Her mother stays.  
  
It’s dark already and she says she’d rather not drive back late- not that Hope was planning on letting her- but it doesn’t occur to her until it’s too late that she hasn’t had time to turn the cavernous 3-car garage into a guesthouse yet. “I hope she’s not having you sleep on the floor,” Judy says, and Hope almost leaps to her own defense but Kelley beats her to it. “Don’t worry, ma’am, there’s a dog bed.” She says it with a little southern lilt that Hope’s never noticed before and that trips her up so that her own response is a little late, cutting short her mother’s laughter: “You can take the pull-out couch, Mom, we can share a bed. We’re teammates. We’ve done it before.”  
  
She says it without thinking about it and manages, somehow, to not think about it until she’s done going through the motions of dressing the pull-out mattress with a sheet and blankets, before they’ve said goodnight and she’s very suddenly standing with Kelley in her bedroom feeling awkward and slow. “I told you they’d like you,” she says, but she had never expected they’d like Kelley so much.  
  
Then again, she never expected that _she’d_ like Kelley so much.  
  
“What’s not to like?” Kelley jokes, lifting an eyebrow and turning to her duffel, rummaging for her oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. There’s a part of Hope- a part that’s bigger than she’d like to admit- that wants to reach out and pull Kelley back, but she doesn’t. Instead she retreats to her corner of the room, and, like strangers (or like a married couple, maybe) they go about getting ready for bed, spatially aware, sharing air and sharing sinks and standing side by side as they brush their teeth in complete silence.  
  
That silence is guilty for her. She wonders if it’s comfortable for Kelley, but she’s known her long enough that she’s aware that Kelley looks comfortable pretty much anywhere. She’s guilty when she brushes past Kelley and back into the bedroom. She’s guilty when Kelley slides into bed next to her and she immediately turns out the lights so she doesn’t have to look and be tempted. Her mother is a room away, and she’s guilty when the temptation is still there, and Kelley is, too, warm and solid and real, just inches away.  
  
Hope rolls over and Kelley steals her breath with a kiss that’s not guilty at all.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kelley makes Hope talk and Hope talks more than she means to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE'RE AT THE END OF THE ROAD, FOLKS wooo okay that you all so much for your love and support I like you all a lot and I'm really glad people enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it! I have a lot of stuff planned coming up and tbh I'm kinda glad this is done soooooo anyway yeah enjoy! I'll be posting a fanmix tomorrow to go with it! xoxoxox

She wakes to find that Kelley and her mother are chatting over coffees, and wonders what it is about a face full of freckles that her family can’t seem to resist, her included.  
  
“I find it really hard to believe that you were born and raised in the Bible belt.”  
  
“Really? I get that a lot. I have to admit I’m kind of proud of how thoroughly I’ve gotten rid of the accent.”  
  
“You don’t have the attitude either.”  
  
“What, complacent?” Laughter. Hope takes a step back, not willing to leave her spot hidden in the hallway. “No, I know what you mean. Most good Southern girls don’t have too much ambition. I never really fit in.”  
  
“Neither did Hope.”  
  
That’s her cue, and she enters right on time, making the mistake of eye contact with Kelley, who looks unfairly well put-together again. “Good morning sunshine,” she coos, pushing a mug in Hope’s direction over the counter, and Hope considers throwing something at her but thinks better of it and shoots her a half-hearted glare instead.  
  
“You never wake up before me,” she replies, “you don’t have the right to sass me about it, it’s eight am.” Kelley laughs and Hope can feel Judy Lynn’s eyes on her, can feel her start to analyze the situation, and immediately panics.  
  
“I’m gonna go take a shower now that you’re out of the room,” Kelley says, in way of reply. When she turns back to Judy her entire presence changes, and Hope could swear Kelley is reverting into ‘polite Southern belle’ mode. She half expects a curtsy. “If I don’t see you before you leave, ma’am, it was wonderful to meet you.” Judy is clearly smitten, not that Hope can really blame her- not even she had been able to escape Kelley’s easy charm. “Please call me Judy,” is her reply when she reaches out to shake Kelley’s hand, “and I’m sure I’ll see you around again.”  
  
“I’d like to know why you’re so sure,” Hope half-whispers once Kelley’s out of hearing range.  
  
“She’s nice! If you didn’t like her, why’d you invite her?”  
“I do like her.”  
“Even though she’s not Carli? I thought Carli was the only one you really liked.”  
  
It’s a joke but Hope doesn’t laugh.  
  
.,.  
  
By the time Kelley’s out of the shower, the house is empty and she’s completely paranoid.  
  
And kind of pissed.  
  
She’s hoping the promised ‘talk’ will clear everything up, but it becomes clear pretty quickly that she’s expecting too much. By way of greeting her, Hope tells her that her birdhouse fell during the night and needs to be fixed.  
  
“So I’m gonna be in the shop for a little bit. Not hours or anything, but it needs to be restabilized and one of the boards split.”  
  
“Are we not gonna talk, or what?” It’s a bold move, definitely, and Hope immediately draws back like she’s surprised at Kelley’s gumption, but she’s just so tired of waiting that she has no regard for her emotional safety. “Like, at this point, I’d rather you tell me to beat it than pretend nothing’s going on. I’m tired of guessing.”  
  
Hope raises an eyebrow but she doesn’t give. “If you want we can talk in the shop, but I need to fix this now or I’m never going to.” She turns to go, but something in Kelley shifts or snaps and she grabs Hope by the wrist, subconsciously aware that she’s probably making a mistake. She hasn’t let herself hurt for two days now- she’s put it on hold for Hope’s sake, and now even that hurts, and if she has to feel it then it’s only fair that Hope feels some of it, too.  
  
Hope freezes.  
  
Kelley can feel the tendons move under her fingers as she Hope clenches and unclenches her fist, but she holds on, suddenly and irrationally afraid that if she lets go Hope is going to completely disappear.  
  
“They were an apology. The flowers.”  
  
Kelley loosens her grip and Hope immediately takes advantage of it, turning around to face her and retracting her arm.  
  
“An...an apology?”  
“For being...for not talking about it. For refusing to communicate. For being an asshole.”  
  
That hits hard, for some reason- maybe because the flowers are still in Hope’s bedroom, maybe because she had interpreted them so differently than Hope had meant them. To Kelley, though, this sounds like a rejection, and she recoils, swallowing hard.  
  
“I changed my mind. I don’t think I wanna hear this.”  
“That’s not how this works, okay? I’m sorry. I don’t want you to think I was messing around with you, because it’s not like that.”  
  
.,.  
  
“Then what is it like?”  
  
Some part of Hope had known this was coming- either she was going to have to let herself say something she wasn’t sure she was ready to feel again, or she was going to have to let Kelley go, and even before she’d invited the freckly defender into her home the threat of the hole she’d leave behind had been terrifying. More so than a little wounded pride.  
  
“It’s-”  
  
She sighs. She’s quickly going into the kind of panic mode people go into when they enter a situation they never thought they would- like during a plane crash or a penalty shootout- and it feels like she’s living some kind of bizarre dream where she confesses her feelings to someone she should, by all means, not even like at all.  
  
“Look, I’m going to say something, and I’m gonna need you to not talk afterwards.”  
“For how long? Are we talking, like, two minutes, or two hours?”  
“I don’t care. Just stop talking.”  
  
Miraculously, Kelley _does_ stop talking, but she looks a little bit skeptical and that’s not helping Hope at all, so she closes her eyes for a second and leans on the counter, tapping her fingers against the cool granite.  
  
“I think I’m falling in love with you. And that’s probably why I’ve been so shitty to you.”  
“That doesn’t make sense.”  
  
Hope groans, dropping her head onto the counter.  
  
“I told you not to talk!”  
“Sorry! Sorry.” Kelley’s laughing at her and Hope can feel her face burning all the way to the tips of her ears. After a pause, Kelley speaks again- “is that it?” and Hope’s head snaps up, mouth open. “That’s not enough?” she’s indignant and she hears it but Kelley still has laughter in her eyes and it’s almost as distracting as it is frustrating.  
  
.,.  
  
“Well, I kind of thought you were gonna kick me out on the street.”  
  
Hope’s face softens and Kelley feels herself grinning like it’s the Olympics all over again. She’s sure she looks like an idiot, but, given the circumstances she doesn’t mind all that much. “You’re really not far off,” Hope replies, but her voice is thick with sarcasm and Kelley finds herself moving closer, her eyes dropping to Hope’s lips for a fraction of a second without her permission, “because if I didn’t like you so much I’d passionately hate you.”  
  
Hope’s still leaning on the counter when Kelley reaches for her, dragging her away with her index fingers hooked into Hope’s belt loops, so that they’re face to face and there’s no granite to hide behind. Hope’s looking down at her with an expression she’s come to realize is one that’s reserved especially for her- equal parts affection, amusement, and frustration- and she wants to etch it into her memory.“Well, at least you’d passionately feel _something_.”  
  
“Can I get that two hours of silence now?” Hope asks, dipping her head, and this time Kelley doesn’t feel too bad about staring at her lips, because Hope’s breathing her air and it feels like permission. She tips her head back and leans forward, letting Hope take most of her weight.  
  
“You can sure get two hours of something...”


End file.
